My grandmother died five years ago, and although it is still upsetting to me to think about it, I’m getting better. Sometimes it sneaks up behind me, squeezing my heart and my throat until it is hard to breathe. When I get to That Day, I am usually fine. The weeks leading up to the anniversay (such a strange word for the yearly memorial) are the worst, and Ron has been the most patient and understanding husband ever – knowing what I need without us having to mention it or talk about it.
Sometimes it is extra hard. I thought I was doing good one day, a few months ago. Emma noticed the Nanny in the picture in the kitchen and was asking questions, because she forgets.
“Did she love me?” she asked.
I couldn’t tell her how Nanny called Emma her Millenium Baby, how she was so happy when she was born – delighted really, how her face lit up whenever she saw her – even when she hurt, how Emma’s hair at a few months was almost the same shade of ginger, how proud she was of all my kids, how she loved to fuss over us all, how she said “Goodnight, God bless,” before she hung up the phone.
“Oh honey,” I dropped down to hug her tightly, “She loved you very much.”
She loved us all, and we miss her.
I’m so sorry. I lost both of my grandmothers about five years ago, too, and still miss them very much.
She was a great lady.
Yes, Sunday was tough. I went to church and they were having a Music Service and they sang old familiar hymns, all her favourites, and I could not sing them.
But it doesn’t wait to hit me on the Anniversary. It creeps up on me in places unexpected like the frozen food aisle at Sobeys when I realized I could not get green beans the way she used to cut them. (I have since remedied that problem by buying a gadget from Paderno!)
And when I see her in your children, especially Emma.
love,
Aunt Glenda
Having just gone through this over the past week, it’s all fresh in my mind. It’s never easy, no matter when it happens, my grandfather was 92! I hope my email about it didn’t trigger the sad reaction for you:(